This is it. One year.
I thumbed through her baby book last night while packing, and sobbed. My babeh is one! It’s exactly what I wanted – her growing up… but man it feels weird. She’s no longer a baby – she’s all legs and arms and movement. She’s happy and fearless and only shy when it suits her. She has seven(!) teeth and they look like little chiclets in her mouth. She’s this entire person and I still can’t believe she’s here.
She doesn’t smell like a baby anymore – well, often there’s a small whiff off her head that reminds of her brand new human smell. She doesn’t look like a baby anymore, she looks like a little girl. Her fingers have changed. She babbles and smiles and tries to climb everything in sight.
I wish I could remember every day, but that’s impossible. I’m surprised by how much her new experiences brings back memories of my childhood. I’m surprised by how much I’ve enjoyed it all – how much I want to know about her, to see her. I held her last night in the glider, and we rocked while I thought about the last 365 days. I hope I see her 50th birthday, her 75th birthday. I hope she grows up happy and proud of herself. I hope she knows failure and loss, but not too much. I hope she knows she can do anything, but not everything.
My daughter celebrates her first year of life today. I want to swim in it. I told K last night, I just want so much for her. Blown. Mind blown.